


Three Times Sara Didn't Say Anything, And One Time She Does

by Ranger_of_Estel



Category: Prison Break
Genre: F/M, Insomnia, Nightmares, PTSD, Supportive Sara, hurt comfort, past trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-12-02 16:19:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11512983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ranger_of_Estel/pseuds/Ranger_of_Estel
Summary: Prompt fill for anonymous on TumblrMichael has nightmares, insomnia and PTSD. His biggest weakness is not forgiving himself. Sara helps him through it all.





	Three Times Sara Didn't Say Anything, And One Time She Does

**Author's Note:**

> So I don’t currently time to do enough research to do this prompt justice as a multi-chapter fic. And I can only hope I have portrayed these issues acceptably here.

* * *

1.

                After years in prisons, after years with 21 Void, Michael doesn’t often sleep. Too many nights spent planning his way to freedom, or only resting minutes at a time in fear of a shiv in his side or hands around his throat. He goes to bed with Sara, watching her sleeping peacefully at his side until he becomes restless. He slips out of bed, moving silently through the house and toward the porch in the back. He’ll sit with a cup of coffee and read by lamplight, or simply watch the stars twinkling above without having to look through barbed wire and wrought iron.

                Without his warmth beside her Sara will wake before dawn, throwing on a housecoat before padding her way through to the kitchen. Making her own coffee before walking out to join her husband. She’ll pull a chair next to his, linking their fingers and laying her head on his shoulder as they wait for sunrise. Sometimes he’ll read to her from whatever book he has, her feet propped up in his lap as she watches him with gentle admiration. The sun will peak above the trees, and with a kiss to the top of his head she goes in to get Mike ready for school.

 

2.

                Michael is plagued by nightmares, waking in a cold sweat and a broken cry as he relives Whip’s death or listens helplessly as the rushing water carries Belloc through the pipes. See’s Lincoln’s blood on his hands, or Sara’s bruised and tortured body. It will wake Sara, and instantly she’s reaching out to pull him into her arms. On those nights he clings to her desperately, an anchor as his thoughts race treacherously.

                Sara never asks what he sees, just offers a few sleepy reassurances and holds him close until he settles. Her fingers tracing across his back and neck, sometimes words, others just careful swirls and shapes. She presses her lips to his crown, humming softly until his trembling stops and he drifts slowly back to sleep.

 

3.

                The first time the memories overcome him is when the electric goes out. He goes to check the breaker, but doesn’t come back up. Sara follows, flashlight on her phone revealing his silhouette hunched against the concrete. He’s on his knees, hands clenched into fists and his eyes tightly shut.

                She drops at his side, his name whispered from her lips as she carefully lays a hand on his shoulder. His head jerks up, but he’s looking through her. There’s a brokenness in his features that brings tears to her eyes. She flashes back to a fractured man in solitary at Fox River, and pulls him into her arms. He doesn’t resist, burying his face in her shoulder as she cradles the back of his head. Fighting back her own tears as he fights demons she cannot see.

 

4.

                Michael stands at David’s headstone, a fresh wave of guilt washing over him. Then thoughts of Sid, of Sara’s father, even Kellerman and Abruzzi. Of all the lives lost because of actions _he_ set in motion, the ripples of _his_ actions. He doesn’t hear Sara’s approach, doesn’t know she’s beside him until her hand slides into his. “I shouldn’t have taken him to the warehouse.” He takes an uneven breath. “I knew he was rash, that he could lash out; and I took him in knowing we would be outgunned.”

                “Hey,” she reaches up with her free hand, turning him to face her. “I can’t say you are wrong; I know saying it wasn’t your fault won’t keep you from blaming yourself.” She reaches up to cradle his cheek with a small reassuring smile. “But you don’t have to carry it alone, not anymore.”

                “I know,” he tries for a smile, leaning down to rest his forehead to hers. “I couldn’t do this without you Sara.”


End file.
